The Holy Fire of Hell
by MarbleWolf
Summary: Meg wasn't her name. It only became her name in 2005. She wasn't just a demon.. she was Azazels Daughter. Castiel was an angel. Castiel was always his name, and he has flaws, like letting a little Nephilim escape her execution. And this is their story.
1. The Nephilim Massacare

**DISCLAIMER- I do not own supernatural!**

 _This is a story i made for a Castiel/Meg story. Nijah is Meg._

They came by night to the tiny village on the coast of the Mediterranean sea. The ground shook and the strong wind tossed hair and clothing about. The animals were frantic. That was the first clue that something was amiss. The angel children could hear them as they approached… the beat of a thousand wings. Then, screaming. Fire blasted around them. Shining figures ran through the town, taking down men, women and children. Blood ran like water as the village was destroyed.

A pair of children were running away from the village, an older boy about 10 years old leading a girl no older than 5. The boys hair was golden, surprising considering the girl with her ebony hair and darker skin. The girl was sobbing, her bare feet stained with dark blood. She wore a white dress, simple and thin and it caught on branches of bushes. Her brother urged her on, his voice urgent.

"Hurry Nijah! We need to get out of here." Her half brother, Xantheus, shouted, urging her on.

The two children were crossing a small river when one of the angels descended from above, cutting off their path. The angel landed with a thump, it was huge… the biggest thing she had ever seen. The shining being looking down at them with it's many faces, one of which was a horned horse, the other was cat like but it had ram horns, the third was a bird of prey. It stomped the ground and raised its blade. She thought it would be over then. They were goners… so she began to cry. The sound seemed to startle it. The ears perking up, and lips lifting away from sharp teeth. Xantheus squeezed Nijah to his side as the being lowered it's silver sword. As one, the three headed being tilted it's heads looking like a confused dog. It seemed to shrink on itself, and suddenly it didn't seem quite so scary. Two other angels were heading over, they looked pissed.

She could hear the angels shouting in Enochian. "CASTIEL, YOU WILL KILL THEM!"

With a toss of his hand, the two children found themselves away from their village. The Angel had saved them. Castiel… that had a nice ring to it.

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Castiel was a new fledgling, only a few hundred years old. His wings still had some soft grey down and he was curious beyond any other angel. His compassion made things hard on him. And so the night that the angels led by Michael himself, descended on the Nephilim camp, he was forced to join them. He tried to tell himself that these were the spawns of the Princes of Hell, and were to all be slaughtered but he could see them as children. They were innocent. And the humans… for raising them… were put to death as well.

He fluttered pitifully around the sides of the village, unsure of what to do with himself. Then he saw them. Two children, a boy and a girl, running away, just beginning to cross a river. He was given orders… they must die. He opened his mighty wings and descended before them, cutting them off from their escape. He was raising his sword when the girl cried out. He stopped, startled at the sound. His true forms ice blue light flickered in the girls honey-suckle yellow eyes. The boy also looked up with inhuman eyes. But the girls… they held so much fear. Her soul was bright, tinted with yellow, pink and red like roses. And something in him said to let her go…

"CASTIEL, YOU WILL KILL THEM!" That was Uriel. With a wave of his hand he sent them away, hoping he'd never see them again.

And several days later he would forget ever doing it as Naomi drilled into him once more.


	2. The Last of Her Kind

_Note i do not own supernatural_

chapter 2- Last of Her Kind

The two had made a new life in Jerusalem. Their life wasn't a righteous life. Two orphaned children in such a time didn't have much choice. She became scary good at using her powers. They blended with the shadows, stealing food and other necessities.

Nijah was 17 when she noticed her wings… the feathers were falling out. Her pale pink feathers fell in clumps. Her brothers wings were even worse off, the white, yellow bones poking out.

The day was a hot one when everything changed. The dust blowing through the town smelt of thunder. This didn't worry her much since it was a normal thing every once in a while. She was in a church, the gold around her would buy a months worth of food… all she had to do was distract the Pastor. He was an older man, in his 40s surprisingly. Xantheus was stealing some of the gold and jewels decorating the chapel, while she approached the man.

"Do you believe there is redemption for everyone?" she asked him. He looked startled, looking her up and down.

"Yes, of course. What's a young lady like you doing out by yourself?" she resisted the urge to snarl, girls aren't all made of porcelain.

"I needed answers." She looked him in the eye.

"Well, sit. I can see what I can do." He beckoned to her.

After sitting, she took a breath. "What happens if it's angels that wronged you?"

The pastor gave her a stunned look, his brow pulled together. "Angels can't do anything wrong."

Nijah felt a spark of anger. "Angels took my whole life away. They uprooted me and made me into this."

"I'm sure they had a reason." He sounded uncomfortable, gripping a golden cross on his neck.

She gave him a fake smile. "Oh I'm sure. So… God can't make mistakes?"

"No. Sin is a mans trait. HE can do no wrong." The pastor stood, the tiny girl was making him uneasy. "You aren't a demon…"

The girl threw her head back, a great laugh escaping her. She was horribly beautiful. She was just like a lion. Sharp teeth of ivory, eyes an unusual tawny color, dark hair and skin making her eyes stand out. They were glowing… no way were they glowing…

"I think it's time you left, child." He tried to keep his voice shaking. Her eyes were definitely glowing. He never saw this in any of his visions…

She stood, her arms spreading out. She must be a demon… "God doesn't love you. He doesn't love man! If he did, he would never have sent his angels to kill his grandchildren!"

Her voice was making the windows shake. A boy with long golden hair and a darker beard rushed over, a bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Nijah! Stop!" Xantheus shouted, standing before her.

"No. I will make them pay!" she shrieked, then leapt. The last thing the Pastor saw were brilliant yellow eyes and broken pale pink wings. He felt something crush his throat, then heard the angels shouting.

Nijah was on top of the Pastor. He was dead. Humans were so weak. God should have protected their necks more... The angel appeared immediately. No… the Archangel. This man had been a Prophet. His eyes were gold. Not yellow but a true gold, his many golden wings were spread wide. He had two more angels with him.

"Ahhhhh shit Nijah…" Xantheus shook his head, pulling a dagger from his belt. He opened his wings, yellow eyes lit up. The Archangel's eyes widened, understanding on his face.

"The missing Nephilim…" he spoke with a higher voice than what she was expecting. He held a long three sided sword that twisted to a point… the Archangel blade. She held her ground, knowing they were in major trouble.

"Seize them! I will let my brothers know." He commanded. The two angels grabbed them easily, the Nephilim weren't all powerful. As the years went on, their powers weakening as their wings fell apart. She still put up one hell of a fight, clawing and shrieking.

"STAY STILL! It will all be over soon." The angel holding her snapped. This angel was in a female vessel. With a flash, three Archangels were before them. Michael was easily spotted. He was the biggest one…his true form casting shadows everywhere.

"Little Nephilim. My brother let you escape our clutches once. Not again… you are sentenced to death. We are merciful and will let it be quick." Michael looked them over, noting the mutated angel grace, especially in the girl… it wasn't worth taking. "Gabriel… kill them."

The Archangel who first found them had an odd look in his eyes. Nijah could see his grace stirring as he lifted his sword. He was going to kill Xantheus first. She couldn't allow that. With one move, she snapped out her wings, the angels shouted, Grace clashed as she rushed at the one called Gabriel. He looked… comically stunned. She swung the dagger from her hip, slashing at him. This was a blade forged by Holy Fire and bathed in holy oil it might not kill but it might hurt. Gabriel tossed a hand at her, not near as powerful as what she was expecting. She swung again, catching him in the shoulder. He howled, his face contorted with pain. His pause was all she needed, she drove the blade in between his ribs, once… twice. Gabriel lit up like a roaring fire. Everyone was watching as he fell but she was the only one who saw his grace zap out long after the "Wings" burnt into the ground. She had no idea what just happened but now she had two very pissed archangels to deal with. Xantheus kicked out of the other angel's hold and with grey brittle decaying wings spread, he tackled the Archangel Raphael.

"Go Nijah! GO!" he roared, his remaining Grace running out.

She hated to do it but she ran. The last thing she saw was Xantheus blown into ash, one crinkled grey feather falling to the floor. With a sob of rage, she ran. And for years after, she stayed hidden.

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Heaven mourned the death of the Archangel Gabriel. He was gone and Castiel was livid. The Nephilim did it. She also killed a Prophet. She must be hunted down and slaughtered. She was the last of her kind… how hard would it be to find Her? And what kind of weapon did she have that she could hurt an Archangel?


	3. I Held You

**I Do Not Own Supernatural!** _This chapter is Meg's death, the next will be her time in Hell._

Chapter 3- I Held You

She had fled north after murdering the Archangel. She couldn't believe she did that. Her father would praise her but she felt guilty. Then she remembered… they wiped her brother out like he was nothing. She was well and truly alone now. The fire in her belly grew and seemed to consume everything else. Her wings continued to deteriorate, the skin cracking and meat decaying. It hurt badly but she didn't know how to stop it.

She spent years moving north, along The Mediterranean Sea. The sun and the stars were her compass. She delved into darker things to get her food, and shelter, such as being a Assassin, a prostitute or whatever other jobs she could find. It was hard being such a small woman in this era. She became pregnant twice from her lady of the night times. The children never survived long after she gave birth, though, and she continued on her way.

She made it to Ukraine before her body began to give out. She was exhausted and she was feeling unwell. It was colder here. She didn't like the cold, it made her whole body hurt. She ends up spending the night in the cold dirt. She builds a fire, using what's left of her angel Grace. She Shivers in the night it's cold here too cold.

The next day, she approaches a village that is on the horizon. For the first time in her life she was unsure she could continue on. The day started out okay he, but as the temperatures plummeted it took everything she had to stay warm. Her grace was almost gone she was sure of it, all of her feathers are falling out over the years and all that was left was thin Gray mummified skin stretched over thin brittle bones. She was thin, her bones jutting out. At this point, she wasn't even sure why she was still going.

She fell to her knees in the center of the village. Those around her gave her odd looks but no one stopped. The air grew colder around her. She shut her eyes, the yellow dimmed after so long. Her muscles shuttered when suddenly, everything grew still. Warm breath tickled her face, her limp hair brushing her face.

"Little creature." She opened her eyes, a figure knelt in front of her, an angel. She tried to shove away, in disgust.

"Hush. Let go. Just let go." The angel had a gentle voice, celestial eyes looking into hers without disgust. "They sent me to kill you. Please just go to sleep."

"You here to kill me?" her voice was raspy, her eyes were brown, just a thin ring of yellow in the center.

"Yes but you are already close to death. Let go and I shall not hurt you." The angel seemed familiar. She couldn't see it. Just the wings and the man he possessed. She licked her dry lips, her throat closing up. "What's your name?"

He tilted his head, reaching for her and lowering her down as she fell forward. He hissed in sympathy as he caught sight of the shriveled mess of her wings. "My name is Castiel…"

She had been shutting her eyes, letting her heart stop. Hearing his name, her eyes snapped open and locked with his. A smile adorned her lips, then with a flash of yellow, she was gone. Crippled wings disintegrated to ash and her eyes flashed a brilliant blue.

Castiel couldn't understand why he was so devastated over this creature. She was an abomination. A monster that shouldn't exist. But he felt her death strongly. Just a pitiful creature with a cursed life.

In the years to come, Castiel would see other creatures that reminded him of the little girl. Treated unfairly just because it wasn't… normal. Castiel watched as the two headed animals, animals of pure white or pure black were slain. Those who were too small, too weird were sentenced to immediate death by their own parents. Children were sacrificed. Animals mutilated. Abomination was screamed out over and over. And he thought of the children slain just because they were different, the Nephilim. Eventually, Castiel screwed up again, in the eyes of heaven, and he forgot all of this as they drilled into his skull again.


End file.
